


Wonders Never Cease

by phipiohsum475



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alpha Greg, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Knotting, M/M, Misunderstanding, Omega John, Rimming, heat - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-27
Updated: 2016-03-27
Packaged: 2018-05-29 09:18:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,195
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6368968
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phipiohsum475/pseuds/phipiohsum475
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John gasped as the door opened; the most delicious of alpha scents accompanied Lestrade into the room. Somewhere along the way, he must have picked up the scent, because it certainly wasn’t Sherlock’s. His need increased, and ignoring the scent for now, John tried to keep the plea from his voice as he admitted, “Oh, thank god you’re here.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wonders Never Cease

**Author's Note:**

> There is a miscommunication that may make this dub/con, in which both Greg and John believe the other to be the opposite gender. Neither is intending to manipulate or trick the other, and both are favorable of the outcome. 
> 
> So please, take care of you, if this might be upsetting to you!

The scent of pure alpha assaulted John the moment he stepped into the lab. He nearly gagged, but caught himself; it had been months since he’d scented an alpha so strongly. It was considered a social faux pas, but more and more designated persons were protesting societal norms by refusing to wear the standardised neutralant. The scrawny offender in the room was radiating a dominating, powerful scent and while it wasn’t repulsive, it certainly wasn’t alluring. If nothing else, John knew this man wasn’t his mate, like the thousands of others he’d met. Instead, he simply assumed the dark haired man was a progressive. He understood the sentiment, but his entire self twitched with the overwhelming scent as he focused on controlling the look on his face. 

In contrast, the rest of the hospital was aromatically sterile. Filters in every patient room, and every member of the staff wore the expected neutralant, including Stamford and himself. However, it only took ten minutes or so to understand exactly why the alpha felt confident in displaying his scent, and it had nothing to do with being progressive or aggressive. Simply put, Sherlock Holmes was so impressively brilliant, his scent was the least of what one remembered about him. It was the same reason, John supposed, that he could be so callous to the medical examiner, or so presumptive of John’s acceptance of a flat share. 

John appreciated that Stamford remembered him well enough to know that suggesting an unbound alpha be a suitable flatmate wasn’t outrageous. John was always a domineering omega, refusing to stand down, to be bullied or commanded. Once he’d become a medical student, and neutralant was expected of everyone, most people who didn’t know him outside of school and work assumed he was an alpha, and that assumption worked well in his favor. 

And once he joined the military, well, then neutralant was mandatory, and military grade. For all practical purposes, there was no gender in the military, aside from the secondary genders of male and female, and those weren’t all that hormone driven to begin with. Not to say sex didn’t happen, but it tended to be in between the action, not a disabling need to fuck regardless of circumstance. 

John still wore the military grade neutralant; but he didn’t assume for a moment that Sherlock wouldn't suss him out immediately. And if they were flat mates, it would be inevitable; like anyone else, John didn’t bother with the neutralant unless he was going out of the house. 

-o-

It was a whirlwind, the day he moved in with Sherlock. He was impressed by the crime scene, impressed by Sherlock’s brilliance. He watched him in between the officers, his brain making assumptions; Donovan, likely alpha, Anderson, omega. He knew the old stereotypes didn’t necessarily apply; they certainly didn’t to him, but he couldn’t stop his brain from guessing. The least he could do was to treat everyone as beta until he learned otherwise, but his brain made the assumptions all the same. 

John was surprised at Lestrade’s deference, though. To be the Detective Inspector; John’s first thought was alpha; it was still annoyingly difficult for omegas to rise in the workforce. Since employers still requested gender, even the neutralant couldn’t entirely erase the gender gap.

Greg Lestrade, however, was clearly an omega. He buckled under Sherlock’s scent, trying to be firm with him, and failed at the effort. John respected him enough to wear the required suit, booties and gloves into the crime scene, but Sherlock trampled in with naught but gloves as Lestrade protested, then gave up. 

John liked Lestrade, liked the control he had over his department, like his strength and command, even though he buckled quickly under Sherlock’s barbaric gaze. But the drugs bust; how he could handle Sally, John felt a kindred spirit. 

And Lestrade was kind to him in turn. He treated John with the same respect as Sherlock; even more so, since John was properly civilised to him. They’d met up a time or two, right after a case; when the pubs were still open. John enjoyed his company, a fellow omega who stood in charge in an alpha world.  

-o-

Greg could pinpoint the exact moments in his life that everything changed. One was meeting Sherlock Holmes; another was meeting John Watson. From that very first crime scene, Lestrade knew John was his best ally in controlling Sherlock. He appreciated the alpha; and was impressed that an alpha even existed that was capable of controlling Sherlock. He’d always prided himself as a strong alpha, though he never used his commanding presence to intimidate, and even  _he_ was incapable of containing Sherlock’s behaviors. But what John did; how he controlled Sherlock, tempered him; John must have been the most influential alpha he’d ever met.

He’d tried to coax the man on a few dates; they’d gone out to the pubs a bit, but John never seemed interested. He seemed almost shy, almost afraid to assume Greg was interested; a rare trait in an alpha. But Greg wasn’t the sort to throw himself at someone who didn’t share his affections, especially a similarly gendered someone. John was kind, caring, and completely oblivious to Lestrade’s wants. 

And so Lestrade let sleeping dogs lie. 

-o-

The need came on suddenly, so suddenly that John barely had time to warn Sherlock. He gathered an armload of non-perishables and water before disappearing up the stairs. It took less than an hour for John to realise his mistake.

His fingers weren’t nearly enough. 

Ha hadn’t had a heat since before Afghanistan; he’d been on suppressants for years. When he’d come home, he’d gone off them; knowing that prolonged suppressant use could have detrimental health effects. And stupidly, he had not prepared. 

He texted Sherlock from his room to warn him away; at this stage there was no telling how the alpha might act in close vicinity. Sherlock always claimed to be above his hormones, but John wasn’t willing to find out. And, though it was slightly mortifying, he texted the only person he knew could help. Lestrade could pick something up for him, and bring it to him without a problem. His brain was fogging quickly, especially without being able to satisfy himself, and he sent the barest of words.

<In heat, need an alpha cock, hurry>

-o-

Greg pulled out his mobile at the chime and nearly choked on his coffee. He was surprised on a multitude of fronts; first that John was apparently an omega, second, that he was in heat, and third, that he wanted Greg’s help. Apparently his flirtations hadn’t gone unnoticed; but this was quite a leap. 

But far be it from Greg to let such an invitation go unheeded. 

<On my way>

He rushed, leaving Sally in charge, filing the appropriate heat leave paperwork, then made his way to Baker Street. The door was unlocked, and he made his way up the stairs, surprised to find Sherlock in the living room. 

Sherlock appeared equally surprised, “You’re not here for a case.”

“No, John asked me to come by.” Greg shrugged off his jacket and hung it on the wall. 

“He went into heat this morning, quite suddenly. When did he ask?”

“I got a text about thirty minutes ago,” Greg explained. 

Sherlock furrowed his brow, not understanding. Sighing, Greg showed him the text. 

“Oh!” Sherlock exclaimed. “Yes, well. Up the stairs then. I’ll-” he looked around the room quickly, then picked up his phone and coat, “I’ll find somewhere else to be.”

-o-

Greg opened the door, and the scent alone made his knees buckle. Added to the sight of John Watson, on his knees, arse to the door, one arm holding him up as he desperately tried to satiate himself with the other, and Greg had to hold onto the door frame to keep standing. 

-o-

John gasped as the door opened; the most delicious of alpha scents accompanied Lestrade into the room. Somewhere along the way, he must have picked up the scent, because it certainly wasn’t Sherlock’s. His need increased, and ignoring the scent for now, John tried to keep the plea from his voice as he admitted, “Oh, thank god you’re here.”

-o-

“Yeah,” Greg answered distractedly, “Came as soon as I could.”

He shucked off his clothes as quickly as possible, knowing that once he’d sunk into John’s heat, he wouldn’t want to be bothered by something as inconsequential as clothing. He climbed onto the bed behind John and offered breathlessly, “Let me help.”

-o-

John was barely coherent; the scent on Lestrade’s clothes was driving him mad. When Greg offered to help him with the toy, he accepted, knowing that in his state, he wasn’t fit to move, let alone wrestle with packaging. He’d learned long ago that there was no point in being embarrassed by anything that happened during heat; and that he wasn’t above a little mutual omega gratification either. 

“Yeah, please,” John accepted the offer, moving his fingers out of the way, and arching up his back to make it easy for Greg to slide in the toy.

-o-

Greg bit back at his moan as John presented himself up to him; it was like a fevered dream, and in one smooth stroke, he grabbed John’s hips and slid in, sheathing his cock in John’s hot body, tight, smooth, and sopping wet. “Fuck, that’s good, hell John.”

-o-

John groaned delighted at the sensation of finally, _finally_ , being filled properly. He heard Greg say something, but couldn’t hear him over the roar of ecstasy in his own head. 

“ _More_.”

-o-

Greg’s own head was misty with the overwhelming haze of John’s pheromones, and the arousal and instinct roared in his head as John requested more. With sudden strength, he snapped his hips hard, and John cried out.

-o-

It dawned on John, just as the word slipped from his lips, that there was no way Greg was simply helping. He had both hands on John’s hips, his breath was hitched, and suddenly he slammed into John, the full force of his cock burying deep into John, and John cried out. 

“Oh shit,” he startled with a huff, “You’re a- an alpha!”

-o-

Greg didn’t register the tone at first; instead leaning over John, growling in his ear, “And a damned good one at that.”

It was only when John stammered, “I- I didn’t know,” that it clicked for Greg, and he nearly fell off the bed in his attempt to pull out of John. 

“What do you mean, you didn’t know? Why you’d call me over?” Greg asked anxiously, backing up against the wall. 

“Jesus, Greg, don’t stop, please, just knot me and we’ll deal with it then, I can’t bloody think right now. Just, Christ, _help me_.”

It was too much; John’s hormones in the air, the fact that Greg’s cock was covered in John’s slick, and John still presenting, begging him for a knot. He hoped John wouldn’t hate him afterwards, but couldn’t resist. He came back to the bed, kissing up his spine, and sliding back into John’s quivering warmth . 

“I’ll take care of you, John. Whatever you need,” he promised, hoping somehow to rectify the misunderstanding.

“Again,” John requested, “Like before. _Hard_.”

“Anything you want, pet,” Greg answered, before beginning a relentless pace. John easily took the length of him, and Greg growled low, leaning back over him, propping himself with one arm, and wrapping the other around John’s abdomen. “Feel so good, John,” he murmured low, licking a stripe up his back, “Taste even better.”

John pushed back against him. “First heat-” he panted, “-in over a decade. Stop. Bloody. Talking.”

Greg nearly roared, the knowledge of John having shared himself with no one else, just him in so very long; and his knot began to swell. He placed his teeth on John’s shoulder, knowing when he knotted he’d feel the instinct to claim John as his, to burst the gland in his neck, to let their hormones fuse together, so that John would always and forever crave him, but refusing to do so without John’s explicit permission. The bite on John’s shoulder might take a few weeks to heal, but he was confident John would prefer it to bonding.

John used the strength of his arms to push hard against Greg, taking in everything that he could, the way Greg filled him to the brim, like he belonged there; as though they were no longer two people but one. By all accounts, his body hungered for Greg; pleased with how perfectly the alpha’s cock fit inside him, his body dripping with fluids and slick, down his thighs, onto the bed, he could even feel how drenched Greg’s bollocks were, as the swollen testes slammed against the base of his cock, adding more sensation, and John was nearly gone with the ecstasy of his heat.

John ordered, though his voice broke through the plea, “Knot me. _Now-_ Greg!”

“Christ, yes!” Greg gasped, his knot filling at John’s command, and he plunged himself deeply into the omega, his way wet and lusciously slick. As he did so, he bit down hard onto John’s shoulder, tasting blood. 

John cried out, a howled groan of pleasure and Greg could feel him coming onto the sheets beneath them. Each throb of John’s cock twitched down his cloaca, and Greg moaned as John milked him of one orgasm after another. Greg kept his teeth pierced in John’s shoulder til the last of his climax subsided, softly lapping up the blood, and wrapped his arm around John’s abdomen to feel the swell of his seed inside John. 

Together, they listed to the right, so that Greg was pressed against the wall, allowing John unfettered access to the door, should he chose to leave. Greg’s heart pounded, far past what his orgasm might have dictated. He waited for John to speak first; unsure of how devastating this misunderstanding might have been.

John spoke in short, clipped tones after his caught his breath, “You knew I was an omega.”

“Not til you texted me,” Greg explained. “Thought you’d have to be an alpha based on how you handled His Nibs.”

“I thought you were an omega for the same reasons. Heat started, and I needed a toy. But you thought I was inviting you to share my heat.”

“Yeah.”

“So we both fucked up.”

“I think so?” Greg was hesitant to place the blame on John, though he agreed with John’s assessment.

“You took heat leave?”

“Yeah.”

“I’m not opposed to riding this out with you, if you aren’t.”

“Bloody hell, John, I’d love that.”

Greg could feel the small huff of laughter John gave as a response. “I haven’t a heat in years. And even before that, I hadn’t shared but a few. Gotta say though, you’ve the most fantastic cock I’ve fucked.”

Blushing, Greg stuttered, “I- you can’t-” He gathered his thoughts, “My ex said I was always hitting all the wrong angles. Was practically a bloody contortionist trying to satisfy her.”

“I’ve seen that. First bonds. Think you’re so in love, and totally ignore the signs your body gives you. It wasn’t just that, was it?”

Greg laughed, “Yeah, no. You always hear that it’s gotta be both love and compatibility, and as a younger bloke, you think it’s shit. Love conquers all, but fuck if sex doesn’t matter too. Knew lots kids in uni who’d try to overcome the sexual incompatibility; doesn’t work. Ends in a lot of broken bonds.”

“I never bonded. Nothing felt right before the military, and the option isn’t there. But from what I can tell from my heats and my hormones outside of heat, I’m pretty demanding. Closest I came was a beta in Afghanistan with the most insatiable needs. Everyone expected him to be aromantic, asexual at the very least, being a beta and all that, but I found out otherwise. Didn’t work out in the end, but learned I need someone equally insatiable.”

“You have no idea,” Greg deadpanned. “I’ve always been a few times a day guy myself, but I was with an omega whose hormones cycled a few times a month. And apparently, I was ‘all wrong’ even when we did have sex.”

“Yeah?” John asked, intrigued. “I tend to wank a few times a day, least when I’m not trying to keep my tosser of a flatmate from getting killed. And I have to say, you hit all the right bloody angles for me.”

Greg was quiet, the implication hanging in the air. “Guess we’re well matched for your heat, at least.”

“Thank Christ for that,” John sighed. Greg shifted behind him, and they both felt his knot slimming, almost ready to slip out. John could feel Greg’s hesitance, a question hovering over him, Greg almost too shy to speak up. “Just ask, at this point. Not like we’re hiding anything. Not now, anyways.”

Greg closed his eyes, afraid to see John’s reaction, but asked, “I’m- I wanta taste. The- uh- both of us. From, well- from you. You know what I mean?”

John moaned, the very thought dirty and arousing and decadent, “Yeah, I think so. When you slip out then?”

Greg relaxed at John’s apparent approval, “That’d be fucking brilliant, if you’re willing.”

“Willing?” John huffed a deep laugh that Greg felt reverberate down John’s spine and straight to his cock. “It’s- hell. It’s- I don’t even have the words, but that sounds- Christ. It’s like you’ve a list of all the filthy little things I love and you’re checking off the boxes one by one. Might have ta-” John stopped, and Greg could see the blush up John’s neck. 

“Now who’s the one holding back?” Greg teased, nipping softly at John’s neck. John gave a startled cry of pleasure and jumped, and Greg slipped out, his knot tugging only slightly. Greg gave a low snarl, running his hand up John’s thigh, then tracing his fingers around the sensitive curve of John’s bullocks. “Now, how about you bring that tight little arse up here, and we’ll see how good you taste.”

John felt Greg’s growl against his neck, and felt the feverishness of heat begin to settle back in. He began to contort himself to give Greg ample access, but Greg just chuckled. 

“No, ride me,” he insisted, pulling John up, and John moaned with pleasured disbelief as he allowed Greg to manipulate him. Greg shrugged down just a bit, lining himself up under John, sneaking a peek at the omega, flushed, sweaty with a far away smirk as he gripped the headboard, knees on either side of Greg’s ears. “C’mon down, pet,” Greg demanded, softly but firmly, “I won’t let you hurt me.”

Greg tugged on John’s hips, lowering him down, until the sopping, wet heat of John’s slick and his come was within reach. He tilted his chin, burying his tongue as deeply as he could inside John; the sweet juices dripping down his neck. 

John made desperate, soft whimpers, and Greg brought his hand to John’s, directing the omega’s hand to his own cock. John got the hint, and began to stroke himself lightly. He shifted his hips, tilting his hole closer to Greg’s seductive, talented tongue, and his cock further away, which made it both easier to touch himself, and gave Greg a bit more breathing room. 

Greg moaned against John, taking a moment to lap up the slick up his perineum and under his bollocks. “Fuck,” he muttered, loud enough for John to hear, “We taste so damned good. Can you come like this for me, pet?” Greg asked, voice husky and eager, “Please?”

“Just don’t fucking stop,” John tried to quip, but the breathiness of his voice betrayed his need. 

Greg obeyed, delving back into the cloyingly sexual taste of sweet hot slick, coming up so often to gasp for extra oxygen. His jaw worked tight against John’s arse, moaning and growling, as John’s hand worked over his cock. Greg’s cock filled out, just listening to the gasps and groans echoing out of John’s throat, pouring decadently out of his mouth like honey. 

Greg slipped in two fingers into John’s arse to give himself a moment to catch his breath. “Fucking delicious,” he muttered against John’s skin, “Just gorgeous, pet, could fuck you for ages.”

“Fuck, just do it, please,” John half begged, half demanded, “I’m so fucking close, shut up and just fucking do _that_ again. _Please_.”

Greg chuckled against John’s skin, and dove back in. John growled, hand flying over his cock, and with a rush of slick dripping down Greg’s face, John cried out, coming over his fist. Greg delved in hard and fast, and felt John’s come drip over his own hand and onto Greg’s face, as John’s orgasm throbbed through him. 

Greg worked hard to take in every bit of slick, the sweet delicious juices flowing from John’s body, feeling the stripes of come cover steak into his face and hair. He kept going until John had nearly collapsed against the headboard, then gripped his hips, dragging John down to his cock. 

“Lemme take you, knot you, fuck you, my gorgeous pet,” Greg babbled, and with John’s agreement, he lifted John up just enough to thrust the omega onto his cock, thick, fat and ready for John’s slick arse.  

-o-

John groaned, full and stuffed with alpha, and fell down onto Greg, opening himself deeply. His head dipped down towards Greg’s neck, which was drenched in his slick and Greg’s come. John moaned, then lapped desperately against Greg’s neck and face, taking in the delicious taste of their combined intimacies. His slick was the sweet taste, he knew, from trying it so many times before. The strong, dominant taste, leaving him boneless and subject to Greg’s whims, that must have been the Greg’s taste, Greg’s come dripping back out to soak his cheeks, jaw, collarbone, and John nearly bit him in his arousal. 

“Christ, you weren’t fucking kidding,” John gasped against the nape of Greg’s neck, having sucked a bruise in his attempt to taste all they had to offer. “We’re fucking brilliant together.”

“Course we are,” Greg answered deep and low, right before he began to thrust into John, eager and impatient already, pistoning with the need to come once again. 

His hormones infiltrated John’s every breath, his scent driving John wild. John moaned, pushing himself down as hard as he could, given the modicum of leverage he had. 

“Look at you, pet,” Greg murmured in awe took one hand of his hip, and brushed the backs of his fingers over John’s cheek, coming down to trace his bottom lip, opened in a gasped ‘Oh’ as Greg filled him. “That’s it,” Greg encouraged, sliding his fingers into John’s mouth, “Suck for me.”

John let his tongue sweep over the rough callouses of Greg’s hands. Though his detective position had become mostly desk work, John could feel the years of hard work that came before it. He closed his lips around the digits, lavishing them as well as he’d lavish Greg’s cock as soon as he could. He closed his eyes, but he could almost hear Greg’s smile as he spoke.

“There you go, such a good omega. Can’t believe you let me anywhere near you, so fucking gorgeous,” Greg’s voice was thick with affection, and John near melted from the sound. He bobbed his head on Greg’s fingers, and impaled himself on Greg’s cock, feeling perfectly in the moment. There was nothing outside he and Greg, and John had never felt more content, as though this were exactly where he was supposed to be.

Greg kept talking, praising him, all the words that weren’t ever allowed in typical sex billowing forth during heat, “I can see it now, you fucking yourself on me, full of my pups, begging for more. Wanton and desperate, begging to be filled, over and over again, locked on my cock like the exquisite pet you are.”

John groaned, the images pouring arousal into his veins, and Greg encouraged him further. 

“That’s it sweetheart, my decadent omega, let me see you come,” Greg demanded, taking the other hand off John’s hip and running it through John’s hair, then pulling it gently. “Look at you, split open on my cock, talking all of it, _every_. _fucking_. _curve_. Hitting exactly the right spots, just for me, dripping wet, such a good pet, just waiting to give yourself to _me_.”

John gave a final moan, then with Greg’s cock buried deep inside him, sucking on his thick, rough fingers, and feeling the mild burn of Greg’s hand tugging at his short hair, John came yet again, untouched, in ropes over Greg’s abdomen. As his orgasm ebbed, Greg snarled with pleasure, gripped his hips with a punishing grip and fucked into him relentlessly. With a vicious growl, Greg came, and John could feel the throb of his cock echo through his entire body. 

He fell limp onto Greg’s chest, exhausted, and Greg wrapped his arms around him, whispering into his ear.  

“Amazing.”

  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Find me on [tumblr](http://phipiohsum475.tumblr.com).  
> And thanks to HumsHappily for the beta!


End file.
